


The things I do for you

by MalikRuttingAssassinAss



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Anal, Chris has a domination fetish, Complete, Dry Humping, Fingerfucking, Hurt/Comfort, I shouldn't be allowed to play games with sexy buff men, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Nivanfield, Old Wounds, PWP, Piers is dropped in the metaphoric shit, Resident Evil 6, Rutting, Shameless posing, Shanghai China, Slash, Voyeurism, but he likes a bit of bum fun too, hiding under smelly fish, i like tags, infirmary, injuries, mild seizure, old mental trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 07:01:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalikRuttingAssassinAss/pseuds/MalikRuttingAssassinAss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He glanced at Chris from over his shoulder and noticed the look in his eyes. The man gazed back at him from his place propped against the wall, legs splayed ahead of him as his well-muscled arms dripped sweat that reflected the dying flames of the J’avo’s body. And those eyes… they had found him, found the position he was in and weren't leaving him any time soon."</p><p>Piers is caught off guard when Chris suddenly collapses during a hostage rescue mission in Shanghai, and with the man down, J'avo seem to close in around them. Will Piers make it with Chris to safety? Will they ever see their team again? Will Chris ever stop staring at Piers' arse? </p><p>Read on to find out what happens in this lust-tastic PWP of sexiness!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The things I do for you

**Author's Note:**

> As should be obvious, I do not own Chris Redfield, Piers Nivans or the J'avo, they belong to... their respective owners - meaning I can't remember - HA! ... um. But the story is mine, and I don't make money from it! :D
> 
> I literally know nothing about their characters and this is my first time writing anything to do with Resident Evil of any kind, so please be gentle with me. As always, I appreciate comments and kudos just as much as anyone, if not, more! :D Love, MalikRuttingAssassinAss xx

Chris couldn’t focus. 

Piers found himself having to drag the Captain aside the fray of J’avo and shout some sense into him. Chris couldn’t find his lieutenant’s eyes, nor could he spend much time on his feet, it seemed. Piers caught his Captain as the man crippled and carefully leant him back against the fish counter. 

“Captain!” He gasped, his mind abuzz as he searched for any wounds on his Captain’s body. He found none, but as Chris reached his fingers to his head, nails digging into his scalp, he soon realised just what was occurring with the man. He was in a lot of pain in a place even Piers couldn’t apply medical spray to. He tried giving the man a tablet from his pouch, but the Commander only wretched when he tried to swallow and spat the tablet out. 

Piers barely understood what was going on with his Captain, but he knew he couldn’t leave him, and running right now would be too dangerous anyway, especially if he was forced to carry Chris.

Piers looked around the back of the fish stall he had pushed Chris into and swore quietly under his breath. This wasn’t a good time to have the Captain tripping balls or whatever he had decided to do and it would, again, be up to Piers to fix the Captain before they were cornered. He didn’t have to concentrate to hear the J’avo through the gunfire, the bastards were about as graceful as a heard of lame cows, and it wouldn’t be long before they were eventually found.

“Captain.” Piers hissed and glanced over to his left. The tarpaulin covering the table which was heavily loaded with fish was waving at them enticingly and with the slurred, almost moist noises of the J’avo drawing ever closer, Piers had no choice but to grab his Captain under the armpits and dragging him beneath the table. The scent of rotting fish was overpowering, but it was far more tolerable than the decaying, almost sweet stench of the J’avo as they spilled bodily fluids from every pore and no, he didn’t mean saliva.

“Chris… Captain…” Piers snapped as he grabbed Chris’ shoulders and fiercely shook him. “Wake the fuck up.” Though the man was awake, it was clear he wasn’t about to respond, pick up a gun and start making orders like he had been five minutes ago. Growling, Piers grabbed at his com and radioed into HQ. 

“Agent Nivans to HQ, Captain Redfield is down, unknown injury. I need an evac’ stat.” As he gave his demand down the com, he watched how Chris writhed and clawed at his head beneath him. He had to effectively straddle the man to keep him from rolling out into the path of a J’avo and his thighs felt the strain of keeping him still. 

“HQ, come in.” Piers growled.

A minute of silence and he cursed, grabbing Chris’ com and made the same order. No response still.

“Fuck!” He breathed as he fitted the com device back to Chris’ ear. Looking over, he could see the dragging feet of J’avo pass the fish stand and the more effected men dripping their innards as they shuffled by. Piers carefully lowered himself down against the prone man beneath him and released a steady breath through his nose, mouth pressing firmly shut.

He dared to move past Chris to peek under the tarpaulin. As he moved his face and hand towards the blue material, his breath caught in his lungs and he quickly remembered how mortal he really was. Just as his fingers found the edge of the tarp, a wet slap of something heavy hitting the ground suddenly had him recoiling and smacking his head against the bottom of the table. He felt his body freeze as a chorus of hisses and gargles from the surrounding J’avo erupted at the foreign noise. 

Shit, shit, shit! He mouthed as whatever had slapped against the ground soon began to spread its juices. Piers swallowed as the smell of J’avo filled his nostrils from the slurry as it trickled closer. He couldn’t let it touch Chris, he decided. He didn’t know how the disease was spreading and he hadn’t been told that by HQ, but like hell he was going to give it a chance to invade his Captain. Grabbing the man firmly by the wrists he tugged hard until Chris was leaning fully against him and away from the stinking juices.

“Chris.” He whimpered, his spine arching painfully from the new position to keep his Captain from collapsing back into the bile-like substance. He felt the man’s breath on his neck, how heavy it was and still his hands went to his head. Perhaps being thrown back into duty after sustaining a memory-wiping brain injury hadn’t been a good idea. The man was still ill. 

He was ripped from his musings by a shadow suddenly passing incredibly close to the fish stall. His Adam’s apple bobbed as a harsh swallow forced its way down his dry throat. His feet dug into the ground, pushing as he shuffled backwards and dragged Chris on his arse until they had found shelter under the vegetable stand right beside the fish. Piers would later remember thinking a Health inspector would have a field day if he found this place, but then he realised just as quickly that the health inspector was probably now one of the J’avo and shook the thought from his head.

These pants aren’t made for straddling your Captain. Piers thought as he lowered Chris down carefully, thighs spread wide to accommodate the man’s body and armour and his knees ached from the position already, but he could do nothing. 

The crinkling of tarp being slapped and torn aside ripped him back into reality. He held his breath and pushed his gloved hand over Chris’ mouth to silence any noises he decided to make. Slowly turning his head, he could see the shadow of a J’avo bent to search under the fish stall. The drip-dripping of its juices hitting the floor made his stomach turn and swallowing rapidly only did so much to quell his gagging before the smell grew overpowering. He dropped his head against Chris’ chest, taking deep breaths from the joint of his elbow crooked around his face, but there was no stopping it and he eventually released a dry-heave.

Fuck! 

The J’avo let loose a snarl that sounded just as angry as it sounded wet, bubbling up from the pit of its stomach and exhaling with a putrid stench. Piers felt tears well in his eyes as another wretch escaped him. His fingers went to Chris’ belt and tugged off a flash grenade. The man was either too in pain to realise it was missing, or just didn’t care. Piers didn’t think much of it as the J’avo pulled back out from under the stall. His breath hitched as he turned his attention to where the … the thing had been. Why had it-

Before he could think further, something had begun caving in the fish stall beside him. A heavy weight continuously slammed into the fish crates above and soon, Piers could see fine cracks begin to form in the supports. Using his teeth, he pulled the pin free of the flash grenade and tossed it out underneath the J’avo laying destruction to the stall beside him. 

Pressing his hands over their eyes, he flinched at the explosion of light that still lit up the back of his eyes regardless of his hand there. The screeching wail of the J’avo filled his ears as the thing lit up like a Christmas tree and fell to the floor, its body writhing and bucking in its death throes before it finally fell silent and burned. The other J’avos, wary of the flames that had begun to claim the area, began a hasty retreat. 

“Captain, come on. Wake the fuck up already!” Piers cried and grabbed Chris’ face, giving it a firm shake before he was sighing heavily and lifting the tarp to peer out to the surrounding area. It appeared to be clear. Where the fuck was his team?! Piers snarled in frustration and threw the tarp down to cover them. The fire was beginning to die out in the wet conditions around them. For all its stench, the juices the J’avo oozed were acting as fine fire extinguisher. 

“Piers..?”

The man almost screamed in joy when Chris pulled his head up from the ground and struggled to focus his eyes on him. He grasped the man’s cheeks and waited until the Captain’s eyes had a grip on his surroundings.

“That’s better.” Piers murmured, before he slid off from Chris’ lap and slumped back on his arse to rub his knees. “Aaah… what the fuck was that about? You were fine, and then you just dropped.” 

Chris shook his head and drew his legs up as he pushed himself against the wall behind him. “I don’t…” He trailed off and worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “I keep seeing flashes of what happened… and then I can’t move…” The frustration took over as he slammed his fist into the ground and swore loudly. “FUCK!!” He growled.

“Captain, we must move.” Piers insisted as he leant over to avoid the juices spreading from the still flaming corpse of the J’avo. “I can’t reach HQ and they’ll soon begin bombing this place regardless of us being in here or not. 

“The hostages..?” Chris growled and rubbed his fingers into his eyes.

“They’ve been freed, Captain. They’re on route to a safe house in the southern most area of Shanghai. There they will be questioned for any vital information.” Piers explained as quickly and clearly as he could. Chris cringed and ran a hand into his hair as he watched the young subordinate shift onto his hands and knees and stoop to look under the tarpaulin.

Damn, the boy knew how to bend. And those pants were far too tight to his ass to take much more of that stretching. Chris cringed and turned his gaze skyward at his sultry thoughts. Well, as skyward as the underneath of a table top could get, he supposed.

“So we have to get out of the area and regroup with our squad.” Piers murmured from his cat-stretching, begging-for-a-fuck position. Chris found himself not so fond of the thought, but it still caused a stirring down in his pants, no matter how unwelcome. He quickly willed the disturbance away.

“See anything..?” He mumbled instead, his mouth hanging open in exhaustion. His head was still throbbing and his vision made a habit of losing focus for a second, but it meant nothing if he could still see Piers in that God damn position!

“M’not sure… It looks like a shop mannequin, but…” He glanced at Chris from over his shoulder and noticed the look in his eyes. The man gazed back at him from his place propped against the wall, legs splayed ahead of him as his well-muscled arms dripped sweat that reflected the dying flames of the J’avo’s body. And those eyes… they had found him, found the position he was in and weren’t leaving him anytime soon. Piers swallowed and suddenly felt self-conscious about how much his arse was currently pushed up in the air. He felt the eyes devouring his form and he refrained from succumbing to the ache in his spine from the position. He enjoyed the heat building up that wasn’t caused by the flaming corpse. Slowly, he pulled his eyes away from Chris’ and found the Mannequin further down the corridor from them. 

“…But… with these bastards taking new forms every day, I don’t want to risk anything.” He finished, taking a deep a lungful he could in his stretched position.

Chris didn’t hear him. As Piers returned to his observant position, Chris returned to simply observing. He took in the way the man’s arse seemed to be pushed out even more now Piers had caught him lusting over his position. He wasn’t stupid, he knew Piers had understood the look in his eyes, but he was clever enough to realise this was neither the time nor place for such behaviour, but that never meant he couldn’t look.

“Get your rifle… We’re gonna run for the exit.”

“I can’t run.” Chris groaned at the thought of having to charge to the exit. “But I’ll try.” He finally sighed and heaved his tired body into a similar position to Piers’. “And I have no ammo left in either of my guns. If we run, I’ll need you to cover me.” 

“Fuck. That makes two of us.” Piers growled under his breath and leant forward, full lips moistening under the swipe of his tongue. Chris zeroed in on the action, before he was reaching behind himself and pulling the combat knife from the scabbard on his arse. He handed it to Piers and gave him a firm pat on the shoulder. 

“I can’t see straight.” He whispered before he was slowly rocking back onto the balls of his feet. “But fuck it! Let’s go!” He shouted and threw himself out from under the vegetable stand. Piers pushed back and launched forward, sprinting ahead of Chris. He grabbed the man’s wrist and deliberately shoved the mannequin over to be sure of its harmlessness before he was running again and weaving in and out of the stalls. He could hear Chris’ laboured breathing more than his own, they had to reach the entrance soon otherwise he would be carrying the Captain out and he was far from light.

Soon, the double doors were looming up on them and with the palm of his hand, Piers slammed the doors open and dashed through the vastly empty entrance to the building. The armoured vehicles they had arrived in now stood surrounded by their squad and Piers actually felt himself smile at the safety now promised to them. But that was when a distinct sound of something breaking had his smile ripped from his face.

“Piers!!” He heard his Captain cry as he was tugged backwards off his feet and ground was meeting his back with a painful thump. The base of his skull knocked against the earth hard and then his vision was filled with flashing white lights.

Long and wet tendrils were wrapping themselves around his chest and legs. “Piers, Piers!!” He could still hear Chris even as he was dragged rearwards until the double doors were meeting his back. The tendrils then began to squeeze him against the door and the air soon left him completely. His ribs were grinding against his lungs, threatening to shatter under the force and suddenly, he remembered the knife in his hand, Chris’ combat knife. 

The black ooze that escaped the tendrils as he sliced and severed them from whatever beast owned them splashed over his uniform and suddenly that horrific smell was back, filling his lungs along with the urgently needed air. Then Chris was there, dragging him away and screaming at his men to ‘shoot the shit out of the thing’. Grabbing an incendiary grenade from his belt, Chris threw it towards the doors and dragged Piers over his shoulder.

In his post-trauma daze, the explosion from the frag sounded muffled, like he was underwater. The mini-guns didn’t fare much better. They hardly broke through the ringing of blood in his ears as they screamed bullets towards the beast that was now forcing its way from the entrance, tendrils snapping and whipping at them. 

“Move, move!” Someone screamed as a light flickered in his vision. He opened his eyes and glanced up to catch the tail-end of a rocket before it was hitting the building and showering debris over the beast.

His ribs ached as Chris all but threw him into the back of an armoured tank-like vehicle and ordered a full retreat as the Longbow Apache Helicopter lowered its altitude and fired its weaponry upon both the building and its inhabitants.

***

Piers hadn’t remembered falling asleep, or collapsing, or whatever happened to cut off a good few hours of that night, but when he was opening his eyes, he was witnessing a distinct feeling of not being in the same place he fell asleep in. 

He rolled his head to the side as his eyes began to focus the room. The barracks, he concluded. He felt across his body, shifting in the sheets and found himself both bruised and very much naked. But mostly bruised. He slowly sat up, hand going to his head to feel for any bandages there. There were none, just an icepack that dropped into his lap and kindly froze his bare penis before he was swatting it off the bed. The ice pack, that is. Not his penis.

“Uh…” He groaned and carefully levered himself off the bed. He found a clean carbon copy of his uniform, minus armour and weapons and carefully pulled them on. No underwear… He stifled the urge to make a commander joke.

Once dressed, he shoved the door open and took a step forward. He glanced at the sign by the door. ‘Infirmary’ it read. 

“Chris should be in there, not me.” He growled to no one as he stepped away from the door and headed down the hall in hopes of finding that man in particular. Breathing had been difficult at first, what with most of his ribs either fractured or several bruised, but the pain soon became the equivalent of background noise as he headed towards Captain Redfield’s quarters. 

As he approached the door, he was surprised to find it partially open. He carefully pushed it to and looked in to check for Chris’ presence. The lump of a Commander was buried under his blanket, breathing steadily with one of his arms slumped out of the bed, the other trapped under the pillow. Piers couldn’t stop the fond smile that curled his lips as he leant back and pushed the door shut with his shoulders. It closed almost silently, save for the soft click of the lock as Piers pushed it into place. His movements were deliberate as he found his way to the bed and hovered a hand over the man’s foot. He looked down and followed the tips of his fingertips as they trailed up the man’s ankle, to his leg, then followed the sheet-covered leg-shaped lump until a firm arse was disrupting his path. 

He didn’t touch. Not yet, he decided. 

Piers could barely remember the real reason he had come to his Captain’s quarters. He was angry about something, and the biggest give away of that statement was the word; “was”. No longer remembering what he should have been reprimanding the man for, he instead focused on his Captain’s breathing, how rhythmic it was, how calm. It felt like only moments ago he had heard it ragged, deep and strained as they ran through the corridors towards the exit of that horrible supermarket style building.

“Captain…” He whispered. 

There was no response. He guessed as much as the man had worked himself into… what… a seizure? That’s what it must have been. A very slight seizure, nothing that had him convulsing, it was something that simply shut off his consciousness as it re-wired itself. Piers didn’t ever hope to understand brains or the capabilities of a healthy one, so he could only imagine what went on in a damaged one like Chris’. 

Regardless, the man was in a dead man’s sleep and refused to wake at the prompting.

As he brought himself from his musings, he glanced down to find he was now straddling the back of his Captain’s thighs. Shit, how did that happen? He felt his body teetering forward and calmly placed his hands either side of Chris’ flanks. 

“Nh, oh God…” He breathed as he pressed himself firmly against the sheer muscle that made Chris’ arse so fucking hard. Piers briefly entertained the idea of bouncing a penny off the damn thing, but quickly decided he didn’t want to be the one to explain why pennies that were not there the night prior, were now stuck in the ceiling. 

Instead, he pushed his hips against the arse below him and craned his head back as his penis hardened within the confines of his pants. A hiss slipped from his lips as he felt the head of his organ grind against his zipper and soon had his fingers taking down the offending device and suddenly his penis was gliding into the cleft of Chris’ arse with only the sheets blocking him from effectively humping the man. 

“Uh, Captain.” Piers moaned as his thrusts became rougher. He kept his eyes on the Commander’s face, checking for signs of the man waking up, but… then he was wondering if he really cared if he did wake up. The man had eye fucked him on the job, he wanted him, it was clear. He continued anyway. If Chris woke up, fine, he would deal with it, but for now, he was still asleep and Piers found that he didn’t mind essentially molesting the man like a creepy Uncle.

Bucking into the sheet clad tightness Chris’ arse cheeks created, he gasped and rolled his hips harder, thighs tensing vastly at the difficult position. He dropped forward, wishing for more and willing to take it further as his hand found its way under the sheets and plunged a finger into Chris’ molten heat. The man immediately hissed and woke with a start. 

“Don’t struggle, it’s me, Captain.” Piers licked his lips, thoroughly abusing Chris’ entrance as he thrust the finger in and out. The tenseness in the man’s muscles slowly dissipated and then he turned his head, observing his subordinate and the harsh red flooding his cheeks. 

“Piers..?” His voice shook at the pleasure as another finger slid inside him and bent upwards. His hips rolled forward, exposing his arse more. Becoming impatient, the subordinate threw off the sheets and tugged up Chris’ hips. “J-Jesus, you’re a little horny.”

“More than just a little.” Piers snapped and jabbed his fingers forward and back roughly before a third one was stretching Chris wider. The Captain choked on a moan, his mouth open in a silent scream as three fingers slammed into him without mercy. “You think I didn’t catch you staring at me like I was sex on legs in the field today?” Piers hissed into the man’s ear.

“You were doing it on purpose.” Chris snapped back, but soon regretted it as his subordinate bucked his hips forward and sent him onto his face against the bed. “Uff, maybe not at first, but definitely after you saw me checking you out. And now you’re over the top of me, finger fucking me, I think we both know who started this.”

“Shut up.” Piers groaned and leant forward, teeth worrying a mark into Chris’ shoulder. “Don’t make me gag you.” The feral growl that escaped Chris was clear enough that such an action wouldn’t be a punishment.

“Jesus, look at you, you’re going to come before you even finish working me open. You little whore.” Chris groaned and turned onto his back, threw the sheets off himself and completely exposed his body to the younger male. “I bet you’re struggling to hold your load, aren’t you?”

Piers worried his bottom lip, eyes fluttering shut and brows furrowing at the words he never thought he’d hear his Captain say to him. But he was right, he was teetering on the edge of his orgasm and the signs his body was making didn’t go unnoticed by his Captain. Finally, he slowly removed his fingers from Chris’ backside and watched how the man arched at the feeling of emptiness now coursing through him.

“Oh no you don’t.” Chris was suddenly hissing when Piers moved forward, grasping himself to push into his Captain. “You’ve had your fun, but this is as far as I’m willing to go.”

“Captain?” Piers blinked as he wondered if he was being rejected at the final hurdle, but the thought faded as Chris found his clothes and snarled, ripping the fabric open and stripping Piers naked. His tight pants finally gave as Chris’ large hands clutched the fabric and tore its seams open. Piers gasped at the roughness, feeling the air now on his arse before fingers were rubbing at his cheeks causing heat to flush to them and redden at the abuse.

“You think you can tempt me on the field, then come into my quarters and molest me in my sleep? You have a nerve.” The Captain groaned and pushed a finger deep into Pier’s bright red arse. His subordinate groaned deeply, hips snapping up in efforts to get away from the burn his Commander’s large finger caused. 

“Look at you!” Chris snapped and gave the man a sharp slap to the arse cheek. “…Whimpering like a desperate whore. If this is what you want, then take it!”

Piers honestly couldn’t tell if Chris was actually angry, or if the man had a domination fetish, regardless, he found himself bucking and riding on the finger pressed tight within him, face flushed and fingertips trailing down his chest. They soon found his partially wilted erection and gave it a few short tugs before Chris was snatching his fingers and tugging him forward onto his hands and knees. 

“Get into that position again.” He growled. Piers cringed, hand flexing in Chris’ bone-crushing grip and tried to remember what position he had held prior to Chris man-handling him. But then, his mind helpfully whispered that Chris was referring to the one he had adopted in-field during the rescue operation, the one that had his Captain sending inappropriately timed bedroom eyes.

And in that moment, he realised just how much power his body held over Captain Redfield. He slid forward, hands splaying over Chris’ chest as he pushed his arse into the air, the mattress below him a far more forgiving surface than the moist gravel of that flea market. He stooped lower, pressing his chest against Chris’ belly and released a soft, lewd moan at the effort. The position had caused Chris’ fingers to slip free, his arms not long enough to cope with the stretch, so Piers shrugged and decided to deal with himself. 

Chris watched as Pier’s fingers slipped behind him and began to work himself open. He leant back on the headrest and took in the sight before him. His subordinate, Piers Nivans, was red-faced, his cock-sucking, pouty lips open around clenched teeth as he finger-fucked himself rigorously. His head dropped against his stomach and then vulgar groans were erupting from his mouth as a third finger joined the rest. But it seemed it wasn’t enough, Chris noted, as the boy pushed his other hand underneath himself, under his cock and balls and added a forth finger into himself. 

Chris’ penis throbbed threateningly at just the image alone. Piers wasn’t about to go easy on himself, that much he could see as a fifth finger had him sobbing openly in what Chris guessed was both pleasure and pain. Piers had seen his hardened cock, saw how big it was and he wasn’t taking any chances, it seemed. He was making sure he was truly prepared to take such a vast size.

“Get on me…” Chris breathed, holding his cock in his palm and waiting for Piers to register his words. Finally, the boy lifted his head from the man’s stomach, fingers slipping free and he moved forward, shuddering in pleasure. 

“You fucking whore… How many fingers did you have in there in the end..?” Chris whispered as Piers straddled him and pushed his free hand against the wall behind them, the other resting over Chris’ hand that held his cock against his entrance.

“Enough…” He answered simply and released his grip on Chris’ hand. “Enough to accommodate a horse like you, anyway.” He smirked as his fingers pulled his entrance open, very much giving himself to the man before him. Chris bit his bottom lip hard, fingers guiding Piers by the hip until he was able to lower the boy down on his large penis. 

“Take it all.” He hissed.

Piers shuddered and hunched, fists clenching against his thighs as his Captain pushed deeper and deeper until he threw back his head and let loose a broken cry. “Ah! Captain R-Redfield!” He choked, grabbing the hands on his hips hard and taking deep breaths. “Y-you’re gonna split me in two…” He shook.

“I’m sure you’re man enough to take it all.” Chris groaned as the tightness around his cock fogged his vision for a few moments. He took a deep breath and concentrated on the man on top of him again, fingers trailing upwards, over flanks and pectorals to find his neck, and then cheeks.

“Of course I’m man enough… man enough to save your ass in the field, then get up and walk with all my ribs fractured only hours later… not to mention what I’m doing right now. And if I was such a submissive little shit you think me to be, I wouldn’t have fucked your ass through the sheets… My only mistake was waking you up, it seems.” Piers smirked and wiped his fingers off on the sheets before he was wrapping his hands around Chris’ wrists.

“It seems you’re the only one too cowardly to do… certain things, Captain…” And then Piers was leaning down, pressing his plush lips firmly into Chris’ and moaning. Chris tensed at first, grip closing around Piers’ throat tight enough to cut the man’s air, but Piers didn’t struggle. He simply deepened the kiss, pushed Chris’ mouth open with his tongue and continued his exploration.

Chris soon found himself becoming too impatient. The kiss was sending tremors to his penis, but with Piers’ hips so still, he wasn’t getting the friction the kiss was making him lust for. He opened his mouth wider, panting and trying to urge Piers to move as he tugged on his hips, but the man either didn’t noticed, or flat-out ignored the not-so-subtle hint as he stuck his tongue down the Captain’s throat.

Chris finally snapped and grabbed Piers harder by the throat, pushing forward and slamming the man onto his back against the bed as he mounted against him. Though unable to take breath, or speak, Piers managed a light smirk in the face of his Captain’s anger, but Chris gave it no more attention and pinned Piers back, growling softly.

“You fucking bastard.” He hissed.

“Bastard, maybe, but fucking? I see very little of that.” Piers moaned and made a show of widening his legs, spreading them open for the Captain and rolling his hips a few times. “Come on, please…” Chris found himself repeating that little plea over and over in his head. Piers had submitted enough to start begging and that revelation went straight to his dick. He slammed his hips forward into the tight heat that was his subordinate’s arse and released a sharp breath, before he was following up with more thrusts. 

Piers tensed and squirmed at the same time, panting heavy as his fingers found Chris’ cheeks and he was pulling, drawing the man down again. This time, Chris didn’t recoil or try to choke Piers. He instead opened his lips immediately and met the tongue coming out to play. He didn’t show the younger man mercy. 

When he bit down and Piers made a noise akin to pain, he didn’t care. The coppery taste sliding across his tongue from the other’s only made his thrusts more powerful. If Piers wanted to play with fire, then he would let him get burnt, it would teach him not to grind his dick against a box of matches in any case. 

Wait, what?

“C-Captain.” Piers breathed as his head arched, neck craning and exposing itself to be abused, and like hell was Chris going to let this kid get away without at least one love bite… or nine.

“Sir!!” The man cried as Chris sunk his teeth into his neck, pulling against the skin and sucking harshly until he tasted metal again. With his hips snapping into the boy, he could see how he jolted against the sheets, hands fisted above his head and mouth open in a silent scream and he couldn’t deny how much he wanted this again and again.

“Aah! C-Captain, fuck me harder!!” Piers cried as he stuck his wrist into his mouth and the rest of his pleads were muffled. He couldn’t believe how much he was losing himself, drowning in the pleasure the man he idolized was giving him. He felt Chris driving into him, filling him all the way and then slipping all the way out to the tip, just to smash into him again and claim him completely. He couldn’t breathe properly, he couldn’t see anything but the backs of his eyes, his neck throbbed in that one spot still wet with saliva and all he could taste was Chris fucking Redfield on his tongue. 

“You… You’re s-so…” Chris groaned, his penis was throbbing so hard and he could feel the molten heat bubbling in his balls, begging for release. “…So God damned tight!” He finally called out and allowed his cock to slam in as deep as it could, ignoring the pained hiss of his partner. He arched back onto his haunches and grabbed Pier’s thighs to drag him up onto his lap as he released his come into the boy and filled him until his ejaculate dripped from his arse.

Piers was too happy to writhe and gasp, his pucker twitching around Chris’ cock as he tried to reach his own orgasm by bucking down into his lap. 

“Sir, don’t…” Piers trailed off. Chris pulled out sharply and lifted his hips. He shoved himself onto Pier’s cock and hissed at the full feeling returning all of a sudden. Piers threw back his head and thrust up into his Captain now riding his penis. “I thought you said you weren’t willing to get fucked..?” Piers sneered and licked his cock-sucker lips. “Look at you, fucking my dick- uuh!”

“I barely feel it it’s so small.” Chris snarled in response, but he was lying. Piers was quite large, and burnt he was so thick. He stretched Chris wide open and he was pretty sure he would be ripped by the time the night was through.

Piers gave his Captain a scowl, his lips pulling in annoyance before they slipped open around a moan of pleasure and then a hand was connecting with his arse so hard he felt tears sting his eyes. He bucked his hips, rolling them and gasping as his hand rubbed the reddening mark on his behind and that was all Piers needed. His now bloodied bottom lip sucked between his teeth, his thighs trembled and his dick reached as deeply as he could, ripping a vulgar cry from his Captain’s lips as he was stretched and his over sensitized prostate received horrific abuse.

“Uh… Uh, Commander!” And then, suddenly, Piers was filling his tight entrance with white webs, gasping and jolting at the pleasure surging through him. His neck craned again, his nipples immediately hardened and the flush across his face quickly spread down his chest. It was beautiful to watch such a reaction, and Chris would hold onto it for lonely nights, that was for sure.

He fell forward, slumping against Piers and shifting his hips until the flaccid penis slipped from his arse. The boy below him hissed loudly, pushing against Chris’ arms and took a few rasping breaths.

“My ribs.” He choked openly and Chris actually felt bad for the boy as he slowly pulled himself off and slumped to the side, but not too far, it was a single bed after all. 

“Sorry.” He murmured into the pillow, before shifting his hips and moaning. “Jesus kid, you really unloaded, didn’t you?”

“Not gonna apologise.” Piers grumbled, his arm thrown over his eyes as he slowly came down from the euphoric high thundering through him, making his heart slam against his chest. “Not into post-fucking apologies. Live with it.”

“Yeah, well…” Chris trailed off and actually looked at his subordinate. He was dishevelled. Uniform ripped to shreds and dangling from his arms, dog tags and chain pooled into his collarbone, shimmering with sweat, combat pants torn down the seams for quick entry, heavily come stained and cock lying soft against his zipper. The familiarity of the situation hit him and he soon realised he probably looked just as fucked after his first time with Wesker. That crazy ass psycho, God did he miss him…

“Captain…” Piers was suddenly calling to him through his musings. Chris turned his head back to Piers in time to watch him sit up, tuck his cock into his pants and take a deep breath, a blatant cringe crossing his features at the strain on his ribs. “Thanks…” He sighed. “… for not… you know, kicking my ass for making a move…”

“You saved my life today… The kindest thing I could do was not take yours in return… I just made you witness a little death instead.” Chris smirked. “So, how did it feel, touching heaven?”

“N’dunno, you tell me.” Piers smirked. 

He could see the pain behind the boy’s eyes now there was no pleasure or lust to mask it. He sat up and carefully took Piers by the arms. The simple gesture had the man cringing, hand reaching to grab Chris’ shoulders as he was lowered carefully to the sheets. Finally, Chris leant off the bed and grabbed his utility belt from where he’d dumped it on the floor earlier than night, along with the rest of his uniform, and tugged the case of herb-pills from it. 

“Open up.” He ordered with the same tone he used when manoeuvring his men in the field. Piers opened his eyes, glancing at the white case, and his mouth soon followed, his straight teeth just visible past his full lips. Chris took a moment, staring at the perfect opened before him, waiting for the tablet to hit the back of his throat and just for a second, he entertained the idea of putting his dick in it instead. But he’d put the younger man through enough today and with a flick of his wrist, a tablet fell into the waiting mouth and was promptly swallowed. 

“Wow, they work fast.” Piers blinked as his hand went to his ribs, rubbing gently. “Better than medical spray.”

“Still can’t believe that stuff is still in production myself.” Chris grumbled and dropped the utility belt, with tablet case safely back in its designated holster, onto the floor again. He moved over, giving Piers a glance before his eyes were falling shut. “Good work today, soldier.” 

There was silence from beside him.

“Piers..?”

Still silence. 

Chris opened his eyes and found Piers’ face turned away. Pushing against his elbow, he leant over and gently brushed his knuckles over the man’s neck, trying for a reaction. There wasn’t one.

“Piers.” He quickly moved his hand over the boy’s mouth and nose, hovering there as he felt for breath. It escaped slow and steady against the pads of his hands, numb across his calluses and tickling his fingertips. The boy had simply passed out from the exertion of both the battle and the sex. Chris cursed himself for being so hard on the boy now. Sure, it had been worth it at the time, the pleasure magnified because of it, but fuck, Piers deserved better than that.

Still, it wasn’t like Piers had told him to stop at any point. 

He pulled away from the boy and slumped back in the sheets, eyes darting up to the ceiling. He could still remember the moment he had awoken to the door sliding open, and in coming Piers fucking Nivans with a face that looked ready to scream explicit curses and give him a head butt. And then the weight had settled against the backs of his thighs and Piers had effectively dry-humped him into the sheets, moaning like a virgin until his penis had become too uncomfortable in the confines of his pants. He remembered feeling the thick organ glide up between his arse cheeks, given the sensation was muffled somewhat by the sheets, but his cock had reacted regardless, pushing against the mattress and he was struggling to remain motionless with his cock so painfully trapped.

“Good job, soldier…” Chris breathed and relaxed back in the sheets, allowing the darkness to take him.


End file.
